


All Goodplays Must Come to an End

by Choco_Mountain



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Acrophobia, Gore, Hemophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Choco_Mountain/pseuds/Choco_Mountain
Summary: All the trio wanted was to put an end to Preston’s silly plays. Alas, it was never going to be that easy, for, one fatal mistake in their plan caused everything to go awry.Someone would always have to get hurt. That was the truth Camp Campbell learned by the end of the night.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	All Goodplays Must Come to an End

**Author's Note:**

> This story was essentially just an excuse to write a Camp Camp gore fic, so I apologize that it was a bit sloppy and rushed! Regardless, I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> (I hate reading and witnessing anything gorey, why was this so much fun to write-)
> 
> Stay safe, and Campe Diem!

“Attention, attention!” Preston sauntered into the mess hall, his posture tall and confident. He smiled smugly at his fellow campers, situating his hands behind his back and turning his nose up slightly. “It is with **GREAT** pleasure and anticipation that I invite you all to my newest play! Gone are the days of low-brow humor, and,” he began to wave his hand in an almost swatting motion, “silly, **pointless** spin-offs and remakes that were bound to fail from the beginning. For, this time, my dear campers, I am welcoming you to something fresh! Something new and original! I promise you that this production will **NOT** be a foolish waste of time like the others.” He insisted, taking a bow. “Thank you, and I hope to see you all tonight.” Preston took a seat, giving himself a pat on the back for the “astonishing” performance he had just made. The chatter in the mess hall continued, everyone pretty much forgetting about the theater kid as a whole.

That is, except for Max.

“Fuck, again?” Max groaned, sitting his chin in his palms. “I don’t want to go watch another one of Preston’s shitty plays.”

”Yeah, this one better not be another four hours! I swear, if I have to sit through another mind-bogglingly long play I’m gonna flip!” Neil sighed, picking at his mashed potatoes with his fork.

”You know, what if we **didn’t** have to watch the play?” Max smirked, a devious scheme hatching in his head.

”You mean, like, ditch it? Won’t David notice us?” Nikki asked, shoveling food into her mouth.

“No, I’m thinking something a little more.. sinister. What if we did away with the stage altogether?” Max grinned.

“Seems a little extreme, Max.” Neil admitted, looking at him with concern. “That plan seems bound to fail.”

“Fine, fine. We’ll fuck with his props a bit. I’ll get up from above and mess with the backdrops, or whatever. Or maybe cause a scene in the crowd. That should at least stop him for a while. You know how particular Preston likes things.”

“I don’t see how that would stop us from having to go to the performance, but I trust you!” Nikki grinned, before slamming her hands down on the table. “So, what’s the plan?”

The plan wasn’t all that great. To be honest, Max didn’t know much of what he was talking about. He wasn’t much of a theater kid, and didn’t have too big of a grasp on how stages worked. But, he’d use what he did know, or at least, what he assumed, to hatch his scheme. Max was going to climb to the support beam above the stage, and use David’s pocket knife to cut the wires used to man the curtains. He had a feeling that would cause Preston to put off the play for a day or so, or at least until he got the curtains fixed. Again, not so good of a plan. But it was all they had.

When nightfall came, Nikki and Neil helped Max get atop the stage. He didn’t realize how high up it was until he was there. Uncomfortably so. Max had a horrible fear of heights, but the other two refused to climb it in his stead, and Max insisted that he was over his phobia.

He wasn’t.

That may have been why he was so shaky, gripping the beam and knife as tight as he could as he shimmied across. He could hear his heart beat in his ears as he took the blade to the wire, the sound of the theater kid’s voice being the only thing keeping his mind off the panic. Max couldn’t get over how stupid that was.

“Good evening, fellow campers!” Preston beamed.

_Don’t look down._

”Tonight, I welcome you all to my newest play!”

_Just keep your mind on the cutting._

”You’re all the first to see it, so I welcome criticism and critique.”

_Keep ahold of the knife._

And it was in that moment, that Max panicked. 

He had accidentally slipped slightly on the beam. One singular and simple slip. He took a slight dive forward, and, instinctively, his hand released grip of the knife and wrapped around the post. He hadn’t noticed the latter right away, but by the time he had, it was too late. The blade was out of reach, and time seemed to stop. No longer present was the babbling of the enthusiastic camper, for it was instead replaced by pure silence. Max’s heart stopped, his body frozen in place as he watched the knife fall.

Straight into Preston’s back.

“So, I welcome you all to-“ Preston began, his words being cut off abruptly as he choked out a gasp. There was a sharp and searing pain in his upper back, right by his shoulder blade. The boy fell to his knees, gripping his stomach as he struggled to breathe, his whole body in shock. It was with that he brought a hand to the wound, before taking it back to his front and examining the red that now stained it. There wasn’t much, considering the blade was still lodged deep in his back, but Preston was deathly afraid of blood. He had the kind of hemophobia that caused him to faint at even the slightest sight of it, which was especially bad in this situation. He felt himself become woozy, a nauseating feeling taking over. He let out a quiet and shaken, “oh, hooey.” before collapsing face first onto the stage.   
  


the rest of the night was a blur. Max was so afraid (both of what had just happened, and the heights) that he couldn’t get down from the beam. His body was frozen in shock, and his painfully loud heartbeat drowned out the yelling. There was so much yelling. Max just wanted this to be over. He wanted it to be a dream. He felt sick and confused- nothing was making sense, and his rationality wasn’t working right. The entire camp was in a panic, Nikki and Neil shouting for Max to get down and help as Gwen took out her phone and called 911. David did the best he could to take care of Preston as they waited for the paramedics to arrive. Things were going so damn fast, yet, somehow, still so slow. Eventually, the air was swarmed with sirens, and the boy was picked up and whisked away. At some point, Max had gotten down, or, was taken down, but everything was muddled together in his memory and he couldn’t remember when or why this happened. He got his wish, but at what cost? All he could do was hope everything was going to be okay. It had to be okay. None of the other campers said anything to him the rest of the night, a deafening and eerie silence taking over the camp. Not even Gwen, who had stayed behind in David’s stead, talked to Max. She was just as confused and shocked as the others. In everyone’s mind, he had just killed Preston. Max **murdered** Preston.

Yet, there was a different thought stuck in Max’s mind.

_It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Things were never supposed to go like this. This can’t be real.  
_

_This has to be a dream._

_..this has to be a dream._


End file.
